


Not To Plan

by Longcat



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: FEV, Fighting, Ghouls, Guns, Typical Canon Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longcat/pseuds/Longcat
Summary: Bearhawk said he would clear the building out. Lore thought that sounded too good to be true.
Collections: BearHawk and Lore collection





	Not To Plan

Wind whistled over his shoulder, the chill of the night setting into his hands. As much as he wanted to take his hands off the barrel of the gun to shake them out he needed to keep watching below. His partner should be coming through that doorway any minute and he was ready to cover his sorry furry ass for any stragglers that would follow him out.

Bearhawk had no tact when it came to clearing out a honeypot. He was all bull when it came to it. Going in with that homemade ax of his like some sort of miniature super mutant. Lore was getting fidgety waiting from his vantage point since they didn't have information on this place. They hadn't done any recon or any research to see what might have taken up residence. All they knew was this building had been rumored to still have intact pre-war technology. 

Lore peered through his scope again, looking for any sign of movement. He scanned the dark building windows for any hint of what was going on behind the brick facade. He tried counting all the ways this place would be easy to clear instead of focusing on how long his partner was taking. It was without those putrid sacks of rotting meat and bones that typically were found at super mutant strongholds. A lack of heads on pikes was always welcoming as it meant the insane and unhinged raiders probably weren't inside either. There also wasn't the tell tale tag of spray paint that the Gunners used. But that still left a number of the other inhabitants of the commonwealth. 

A gutteral howl drew his attention to the alley on the side of the building. It wasn't a path he had taken into consideration when he set up so his field of vision was mostly blocked. He could hear Bearhawk skittering through a door, the old wood splintering as it slammed against the wall. He rounded the corner and Lore could see that he was covered in scratches and bites. Pieces of his patchwork armor were dented in and his patchy fur was matted under blood. Only seconds later the irradiated bodies of ghouls came pouring out of the building. 

It was chaos. Bearhawk must have dropped his weapon at some point as he was using his claws, making large swipes trying to hold them back but it wasn't enough as he was overrun. Lore was left watching as his companion in the wasteland was dragged down by these monsters. He struggled to find the ability to pull the trigger, his mind caught up in the what ifs of hitting the wrong target. He didn't want to think of the potential of being the cause of his friend's death. It was hard enough to survive on your own and since finding the mutant his own life had improved greatly. Just the companionship alone had been a godsend. Watching him swarmed by ghouls created a feeling of panic and desperation he rarely felt.

His vision tunneled and it felt as if time had slowed down. He would later swear that the individual ghouls were surrounded by a faint glow making them easier to pick out. Fingers tightened their grip and like a bull whip, a resounding crack rang out. The sight in the scope stayed steady as Lore let out another shot. He didn't move from his position, the barrel of his gun only shifting to line up the next shot. Crack after crack until his gun was empty. 

He got to his feet and ran to the fire stairs, keeping his eyes on the mass of ghouls knowing he couldn't have killed them all. Loading new rounds into the gun he took a shot while on the move. The loss of accuracy didn't seem to stop him from nailing another ghoul in its face. He jumped from the next landing, the shock of the impact causing him to stumble forward but he used that momentum to charge at the remaining ghouls. 

Lore was too close to effectively use his sniper but that didn't stop him from unloading more bullets into the group. Headshot after headshot, bits of flesh and bone exploded out painting the street. It wasn't until he close enough to smell the rancid breath that he started to beat them back with the butt of his gun. The heavy crunch of bone under the sturdy wood and metal of the stock created a certain satisfaction knowing the ghoul wasn't going to get back up. He felt something catch on his belt, a sharp tug and then he was free of whatever it was. Another ghoul lunged at him and Lore didn't have time to think about what he had been caught on struggling instead to get out of the way of the ghouls' sharp nails. 

An explosive sound of a gun caused him to nearly drop his own as he instinctively ducked. It has been incredibly close, just feet away when it went off. A new sense of panic took over from the determined adrenaline rush he had been experiencing. Warm goop dripped down the side of his face, fingers coming up to touch it, he pulled back with a chuck of ghoul flesh in his hand. 

A long string of curses brought his attention to the pissed and injured form of his friend. Bearhawk had his paw wrapped around a pipe pistol, finger squarely on the trigger. Lore didn't have to check to know that it was likely his own pistol in the hand of his companion. 

"Thank fuck you're alive, I got a stimpack in my bag once things quiet down. Did you get the building cleared out?" The responding growls we an obvious 'fuck you' reply to his question. At least Lore didn't have to go back to scrapping alone.


End file.
